"Then prove it," he said. "Prove that Tim Barrow is who you claim he is rather than a false identity created to conceal your own involvement."
Samuel’s chest rose and fell heavily. "I told you—"
"I have spoken with several officers involved in this investigation," Draven interrupted. He had grown thoroughly tired of listening to Laci’s ridiculous story. "They are waiting for answers, Mr. Laci, and their patience is wearing thin. If I tell them you refused to provide even the most basic information about your supposed tenant, and the search of your residence turns up anything suspicious, what conclusion do you imagine they will draw?"
Samuel’s anger faltered. The thought of the search seemed to remind him of just how much was hanging over his head.
"Everyone wants this matter resolved." Draven’s eyes remained on him as he forced himself to sound less apathetic to Samuel’s plight. "The officers investigating it. The magistrate who authorized the search. The people whose names have become attached to the investigation. And especially me. No one is more tired of this than I am."
He stopped directly behind Samuel. As expected, Samuel turned to face him.
"If I tell them I suspect you fabricated Tim Barrow to conceal your involvement, do you imagine they will dismiss the theory simply because you deny it? I doubt they will question my word. There is already evidence that deeply implicates you in the crime. All I need to do is present the theory and let the officers examine whatever they find in your residence. I wonder what they will discover."
Samuel glanced toward the door.
For the first time, escape seemed to cross his mind.
It would not be easy. There were four men in the room, and one of them was a constable. Samuel had nowhere to go and very little chance of getting past them. The odds weren’t in his favor.
Draven followed his gaze and chuckled, accurately guessing where the man’s mind had gone. Samuel was easy to read, his thoughts were practically plastered all over his face and right now he looked like a cornered animal ready to bolt at any given opportunity.
"Do you know what is worse for business than being suspected of aiding smugglers? Being arrested. I would rather not see that happen to you. Think of your wife. Your children. What would become of them if your name were tarnished and you were taken into custody? Poor Hyacinth would expire on the spot. And your daughters. Both young, both unwed. Who will protect them while you are hanging from a noose? Tragic, really." Draven clicked his tongue in disapproval.
Samuel sagged back into his chair like a broken, discarded doll. Whatever fight had remained in him seemed to have drained away. He looked pitiful.
Seated now, he no longer faced Draven, who had yet to move from his position.
"I have not been entirely straightforward," he finally admitted. His shoulders were hunched so high they nearly touched his ears. "Forgive me. I will tell you everything I know about Tim Barrow."
"No. I want more than information about Tim Barrow." Draven, still behind Samuel, leaned forward slightly. His voice dropped, almost conspiratorial, like the devil whispering into a man’s ear. "I want everything you know about the smuggling operation. Every name you know, that of the workers and the people actually pulling the strings. I want to know every warehouse being used to store the contrabands, don’t hold back. I want the truth, Mr. Laci, not another convenient story."
"You will also understand that whatever you tell us tonight may need to be repeated before a magistrate. So make certain you tell the truth. I will not have you changing your account when the matter reaches the courts. If you prove useful, I can make certain the extent of your cooperation is known. That may weigh in your favour."
Samuel’s fingers tightened around the arms of the chair.
"You are offering me a deal?" he asked skeptically.
"I am offering you an opportunity of a lifetime," Draven corrected. "We both know you have skeletons rattling in your cupboard, Mr. Laci. I am not asking you to pretend otherwise. I am giving you a chance to put some distance between yourself and the worst of them. If you cooperate, the magistrate might look favourably upon you and waive some of your offences. A lighter sentence in place of execution. It is more than you deserve. If you refuse, you will answer for whatever the investigation uncovers. Those are my terms. Do you accept?"
Samuel hesitated. His choices were painfully limited, and the offer was tempting. Yet accepting it felt like striking a bargain with the devil. Whatever he chose, he would still be at a disadvantage.
"Yes." He finally relented. "I accept."
A faint, triumphant smile appeared on Draven’s face. "You are making the right choice, Mr. Laci."
It certainly did not feel that way.
---
The night air was colder than Draven had expected when he stepped outside the building. Somewhere in the distance, a carriage rolled over the cobblestones, the sound fading into the night. The street had thinned considerably since his arrival. Most of the audience had already departed, leaving only a handful of coaches waiting along the curb beneath the dim glow of the streetlamps.
His own carriage was nowhere in sight.
That did not surprise him. He had instructed his coachman to leave after the performance rather than wait for him. He had anticipated Laci’s resistance and intended to follow the constable once the man was detained.
Another carriage stood several yards away. Its black lacquered panels bore the Montague crest.
Draven recognized it immediately.
He crossed the short distance, opened the door and found his aide, Sterling Fitzroy, seated inside.
Sterling greeted him as he climbed in and shifted aside to give Draven room on the opposite seat. Once his master was settled, he closed the door behind him.
Draven regarded the man across from him. Sterling looked much as he remembered, though the months spent travelling had left their mark. There was a little more weariness around his eyes, but otherwise he was unchanged. It was good to have him back.
"Welcome home, Fitzroy," Draven said jovially. "I trust the journey was not too difficult."
"Not at all, Your Grace. Thank you. It was quite informative."
𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢
Draven leaned back against the carriage seat and released a slow breath. It had been a long night.
The evening had begun with a noteworthy performance and ended with something far more valuable: the first genuinely useful confession Laci had offered since the smuggling investigation began.
There were still questions to answer, people to find and evidence to examine, but the investigation had finally begun to move in the direction he wanted.
Draven turned his attention to Sterling.
"So," he said, "what do you have for me?"